


fury in grief

by estuarie



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ainur Stuff, Alqualondë, First Kinslaying (Tolkien), Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Uinen/Ossë, Other, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estuarie/pseuds/estuarie
Summary: Ossë is upset after Alqualondë. Ulmo has to deal.
Relationships: Ulmo/Ossë
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	fury in grief

He wraps Ossë in a cool eddy like Vána would cage a raging wildcat in a blanket, casing his Maia in his boundless arms as they sink to the bottom. Ossë struggles but cannot break free, and the deeps envelop them both. Ossë's hair, still shining with the memory of thunder over seas, melts under the weight of the water above them and he wails in the voice of a dolphin but dolphins do not come, kept away by the superior power present.

"Unhand me!" the Maia cries then, his fluid body undulating and twisting around itself, trying to hurt anything he can reach. "Let me go, I want to _kill_ him--"

"Thou wilt not hinder them," Ulmo says as a boom underwater, and Ossë flinches but doesn't shrink -- he fights the current keeping him down. Ulmo redoubles the power with which he crushes him. "I will not have thee defy Manwë, the only one who knows the cousel of the Most High. Thou shalt stay here in the deeps under my fullest power. Do I not know thy nature?"

Ossë wails again, like ice grinding against ice, like the howl of wind relentless. He turns and screams and fights to free his power, and Ulmo watches him, waiting to see him exhaust his fury and turn to sorrow instead.

Once, he had blamed Melkor for Ossë's moods -- had claimed that their brother had turned his faithful, cheery Maia into a frightening, temperamental creature. But the more he has watched, the more he has understood that he too can err: it is not Melkor's influence that has the seas crashing and ships sinking. It is the nature of Ossë to delight in storm and in violence, and to ever strain against restraint, even that placed by love. It is the nature of Ossë to be easily enticed into evil deeds, to require a firm master guiding him.

Uinen would know better. She would not need to wrap her spouse in seaweed and power to dissipate his anger. She could, if she chose to, but she would rather gentle him like a scared doe, give him soft words and soft touches until she gets to the raging sorrow that is behind his anger. But she is grieving as well, washing the white stone of Alqualondë's harbours clean, and she needs Nienna, not Ulmo or Ossë. Ossë loves the Teleri deeply, but privately Ulmo thinks Uinen's love might be even deeper, and in Ossë's violent grief she might lose her own chance to weep.

Ossë seems to gradually realize he is not going to be let loose. His struggles cease and he hangs limp in the gently whirling water, and Ulmo lets warmth enter from the deepest pools, connected to Aulë's forges, first hot enough to burn but cooling fast in the vastness of the sea.

"Please," Ossë says, and his voice echoes in the saddest of chords, his storm-grey face more anguished than Ulmo has ever seen him. "Please, I need to-- lord, please let me avenge them!"

"And where dost thou think it will end?" Ulmo asks. "Shalt thou sink their ships yet save the innocents in them? Shalt thou pursue those who turned back? Shalt thou then go to Manwë and stand before him to tell what thou hast done, or shalt thou leave me to explain thy rashness and violence?"

"They will cause more sorrow," Ossë says. "To the First-born, then to the Second-born who will know only the war and darkness the Noldor shall bring."

"The war and darkness was brought by Melkor!" Ulmo booms and now Ossë does shrink, seeking safety in the warm parts of his lord's will, nestling in the water wrapped around him. "Of all the children of the world, thou knowest best his influence, thou friend of Mairon and--"

Ossë wails again and curls into himself and Ulmo dashes forward to curl around him in turn, to muffle him in the oppresive weight of water and take away his choice that so often goes ill. He is angry as well, he is grieved, and he feels his own agony in the writhing of Ossë's form against him.

"Please, please, please--"

He covers Ossë's mouth and fills it with his essence so that his Maia will be _quiet_ for a moment, so he can calm down, but Ossë cannot be ignored. He writhes and bows and bends, his physical body pressing into his lord's, and the more Ulmo tries to contain him the less he can hold, like water through linen, and he feels Ossë's energy seep into the fabric of his being. There is a sharp entreaty for _something_ , for something _more_ and something _harder_ \--

He recoils when he feels it, the prayer for control. Ossë watches him with fevered eyes, and suddenly he is the very image of a Teler, colour high on his cheeks and blonde hair free, streaming and obstructing his face. He is beautiful.

"Please," he says, "please, my lord, force me to step down, keep me from _hurting_ anyone, I am so _angry_ and I cannot--"

The rise of the affection Ulmo has briefly forgotten is like the tide that Ossë loves to ride, like a great wave bringing with it fresh water from the outer seas. He stops Ossë's words and takes him into his corporeal arms, commanding yet loving, and Ossë moulds into him with a sigh.

"I do apologize," Ulmo says then. "My beautiful creature, I apologize. Thou art kinder than Mairon and more innocent, and therefore more easy to take advantage of. I would not have thee compared to him unless it is to praise thee, and I should not have invoked thy friendship with him."

Ossë weeps openly and Ulmo pulls him hard against himself. They spin softly in the currents.

Above them, a storm rages.

**Author's Note:**

> If I remember correctly, it was Uinen who sunk a few Noldor ships, not Ossë. Aulë's Maiar may keep turning evil, but these two aren't much better.
> 
> I absolutely adore them.


End file.
